Breakup – Part 2

I’m still having trouble processing. I’m so angry. I skipped hurt, skipped crying, all of it. He came, knocked on the door. Gave me back a pair of socks, and the parking pass for my building. Commented that the new couch looked nice.

“Well, I wanted to clarify a few things.”

“There’s nothing left to clarify.”

“Well, there is, for me.”

He told me I was looking for answers where there were none, nothing more to say. It was totally useless. Besides confirming what I figured I knew. That he’s incapable of putting anyone else first, of communicating. Just kept saying we weren’t working out anyway. Said I was always second-guessing him. I asked about the government comment, he said it was mostly about the area. I pointed out he knew, from day one, where I wanted to be, why’d you string me along for 2 years? He sighed like I was getting this all wrong (but of course, wouldn’t actually give me anything else to go on), said he didn’t want to stay in the area. That I was trying to blame him (but..wouldn’t tell me exactly what I was doing wrong, at least that I could learn for next time) or find a reason, or be pissed at him (obviously? because I so love being pissed at exes)? That he liked it down in NC (oh, if you don’t remember, that’s the other time we very nearly broke up). I asked him why he didn’t bring that up at all, that maybe I’d consider moving, and he just repeated we weren’t working out (but he likes spending time with me, which I wish I could count as a win). Which got us onto what I’d previously pointed out, that he made the choice not to spend time with me, this whole “stronger” BS. He was so agitated.

I said, so because you don’t like the government, you won’t support me. He said it was more to do with the area, he doesn’t want to live here. I said, so, because of that, you basically won’t support my dreams even though I would support any of yours. He said, yeah, I guess. It actually still took me aback. “Wow,” I said. “You’re a real jerk.”

Since this was getting nowhere except getting me more angry – he barely had any comment on the using thing – I gave him his box of stuff and opened the door. He got really annoyed then, asking what I was giving back. He said he couldn’t possibly have this much stuff here. I shrugged, told him there was a note.

“No, tell me what’s in here.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s yours. Nothing matters.”

Bye.

I was actually a little surprised he didn’t open it in the hallway and come back all angry. This is what I wrote in the note, over a week ago. So less anger, more hurt:

The things I want to give back to you, you may not accept. I included my two outfits, one I used at the Renaissance Festival and on Halloween, and the other is the Revolutionary War era one I was going to wear to the Mid Winter Ball. The one you all so wonderfully chipped in on. But I can’t bear to look at them now. Knowing what they were meant for, that I could only use them with you. They are so related. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. The one of us at the festival, the one Gary posted, that became my favorite of us. I printed one and taped it to my desk. I had to take it down, shove it in some drawer. I can’t bear it, I can’t.

Another item is the marble rolling pin you bought me for Christmas. I know you meant it, but I can never use it now. It’s too hard, too much of a reminder. A reminder of you. And right now I can’t take it I can’t. I can’t. I cant. Were you already thinking of breaking up with me then?

Also in there is the spray can you gave me a long time ago, and the down wash, and the mug I bought you, the one you left here so you could have tea in your very own mug. I never drank out of it. Besides, you can always use more mugs. Some DVDs “we” had. The down wash, since you’ll use it more than me. Also your ice cream bowl; that really is yours. Or, I guess I would have. I guess you took it already, I didn’t notice. Now I wonder when. Did you take it the night you left me, or the week before? Was it a warning, should I have noticed? God.

All of you saying, “I told you so,” stop. It’s true, I now have nothing else. Nothing solved, nothing answered. But I know that now. And so now, I can start working past the anger. It will take time. At this point it feels as though the anger has dissipated the hurt. We’ll see.

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2 Responses to “Breakup – Part 2”

Don’t call it whining. It’s living through a sucky part. I’m pretty sure there are stages of grief for break-ups–at least that’s how I recall mine. My forever one took, well, it seemed like forever to get over. After him I made the commitment to only treat men as friends. Cosmic joke: I went on to marry my best friend. We’ve been together for 25 years. So it does heal, and it will become the touchstone you are already seeing it for, “before” and “after”.

I’m so very honored to know you. And lucky–you get to blog it all out loud. I could only sing in my room.